Never Never Land
by Salmon
Summary: Mikhail centric, set after the series. Mikhail is bored. So he picks up a stranger on the run. But when the stranger turns out to be someone he knows, things get complicated. OCxMikhail
1. Prologue

**Never Never Land Prologue  
>A Viewfinder Fanfic<strong>

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><p>The funeral was over. Mikhail felt relieved as he climbed into the back of his limousine. Since there had been no body, the funeral had actually been repeatedly delayed for nearly two months. Now it was finally over with. Yuri was officially dead and buried. There had been a time, years in the past, when he would have sworn that on this day he'd feel some sort of triumph. A glow of perverse pleasure that the man was dead. While he certainly didn't mourn the loss of his uncle, he found he really didn't take any pleasure in it either. He was simply relieved that it was over and done with and he could turn his mind to other matters.<p>

Yuri's death had left a vacancy in his organization. That would have to be tended to. Unfortunately, no one came immediately to mind that could easily fill his spot. Regardless of the issues and hairpin temper that had led to his demise at the hands of Asami Ryuichi, Yuri had been skilled. Replacing him wouldn't be easy.

It was rather pathetic that the only thing he could think of to turn his mind to still involved Yuri in some way. But the truth was nothing of greater interest was going on. Asami had whisked his boytoy back to Japan. Feilong was back in Hong Kong cleaning up his organization. He was having to insert new moles in carefully, and it would be months - if not years - before they'd be of any use in making another attempt at the deed to the casino. Which really left nothing much for him to do.

Mikhail was bored. Painfully bored. He cursed softly in russian as he loosened the black tie and pulled it off to toss aside. While black was traditional for a funeral, he still found the color unappealing. He'd loosened the top couple buttons of the white dress shirt he was wearing when the driver of the limousine slammed on the brakes.

Though he was thrown from his position , he was still on his feet and out the door before the driver was. His bodyguard was looking at something in front of the limo, and he stepped forward to see what it was. The crumpled form of a man was lying face down on the street in front of the vehicle.

"He just came running out." The driver said.

Mikhail frowned as he studied the man. His wounds weren't consistent from being hit by the limousine. In fact they looked as if he'd been in some sort of fight. As if on cue, he heard footsteps, and turned to look behind him. Two men stood at the edge of an alley, watching them as bystanders began to gather. Even at this distance he could tell one was concealing a gun in his hand. His lips curled in amusement.

"Put him in the car. Tell the crowd he passed out."

The driver and bodyguard didn't even blink at the request. What exactly it meant that neither protested was up to interpretation. Possibly that they were good at following orders, but more likely that they were used to him giving off-the-wall orders they couldn't begin to understand.

He climbed back into the limousine, and the door was closed behind him and his surprise guest. He watched the men in the alley from the darkened windows. They only spoke a few words to each other before disappearing back up the alleyway. He chuckled. Now this could prove amusing.

As the car got underway, he turned his attention to the man stretched out on the limousine seat. Reaching out to brush tangled hair from his face out of curiosity, his hand stilled in shock. "Huang..."

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>This is my first Viewfinder fic. And it may prove to be my most unpopular fic ever. *nods* For starters, since it's taking place in Macau, neither Asami or Akihito will be in it. (Feilong will be later though, but that's a lot later.) There's tons of OCs, which is something I usually strive to avoid, but it's kind of hard to when writing about a character who's only named side characters were killed before this fic begins. LOL<p>

I don't know why my muse decided to latch onto Mikhail, but she did. She's giving him a romance - that's not Feilong, because I just can't get into that pairing no matter how hard I try. Not only that but Mikhail will be the Uke, which seems to go against everyone else's writing that I've found so far.

Still, if you've ever read any of my fics before - especially my Lovemode's, please give it a chance. Cuz you know that I tend to write my Ukes pretty damn strong. And I think you'll really like the plotline - and Huang - if you give them a shot.

_Salmon_


	2. Part 1

**Never Never Land Part 1  
>A Viewfinder Fanfic<strong>

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><p>He'd been seventeen when he'd come to Macau. Seventeen and a hellraiser. The western slang was "sowing one's wild oats". It wasn't the words his father had used, but the meaning was there. Anything he did in Macau could be concealed, averted, or payed off. It was also far enough from Russia, that rumours of what he did do were less likely to leak back.<p>

The one thing between him and doing whatever he wanted was his father's man in charge of Macau. His uncle, Yuri. While poking Yuri was fun, the man also annoyed him to no end. And, the truth was - though no one would ever have heard the truth from his lips - he scared him a little too. Yuri seemed to exist by being constantly pissed off about something. It was like he was standing on a knife edge between sanity and insanity and he never felt certain if something he did would tilt him one way or the other.

Of course, the last thing he'd ever expected was the least criminal and troublesome thing he'd probably ever do in Macau would be the thing that would tilt that knife blade.

It had started with a trip into the city. An unauthorized trip, to be certain, but then most of his were. He barely spoke any chinese at that point. Which didn't matter, because what he did have was money to burn. It didn't take much to get what he wanted across. A point and a handful of bills. Easy. Words weren't necessary.

He'd noticed him watching him as he bought things from the street vendors, discarding them a minute later when he decided they weren't interesting. If the food didn't taste as good as he thought it looked, he'd throw it away. Yuri would be screaming at this point, and though that was always fun too, he was glad he'd slipped away from his uncle and father's men. It was more fun to wander alone like this, doing whatever he pleased.

He'd wandered into a side alley, only to find his way blocked by three boys around his age. One had a knife. He didn't understand a word they said, but it was obviously an attempt to hold him up. He'd only smirked as they tried to talk to him.

"Don't understand a word." He'd told the lead boy with the knife, speaking russian. "But you aren't scaring me with your toy knife."

The boy grew agitated, pointing the knife threateningly at him as the other boys stepped closer beside him. He'd been looking forward to the fight when a voice spoke with authority behind him. Chinese again. He felt like he was watching a foreign movie without any subtitles.

He hadn't looked back, since he had to keep his eye on the boy with the knife. The other boys were backing away. They spoke to the boy with the knife, who snarled a reply. The voice behind him spoke again, much closer. He sounded amused and condescending at the same time.

The boy snarled again, then snapped something at him. He didn't understand the words but he had a feeling it was something like 'I'll get you next time'. As the three exited the alley he turned to look at who had interfered. It had been the teenage boy who'd been watching him in the market. "You spoiled my fun." He told him.

"You have a crazy idea of fun."

The words had frozen him. He'd understood them. "You speak russian?"

"My father was russian." The other teenager replied. "So I learned to speak it too."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did Yuri send you?"

Confusion had clouded his features. "Who's that?"

"No? So why help me out?"

"This is Haifeng territory. They should know better."

"The Haifeng is the mafia around here?"

The boy had shrugged. "One of them. Along with the Daoyun, the Beijin, and a few others. And that's just the local groups. Not the foreign ones. This is one of the most densely populated places in the world, you know. So there's alot of them here. Easy to hide. Lots to fight over with the casinos and all."

He hadn't known any of it, but he'd also always had a good poker face. "So who are you?"

"Me?" The boy had offered a lopsided grin. "I'm Huang Haifeng."

"So you're one of the bigshots, huh?" Mikhail hadn't been able to stop a grin.

Huang had snorted. "Far from. Mother was just a daughter. And she had an affair with a foreigner. I'm nobody."

"They didn't think so." He'd tilted his head after his would-be muggers.

"They're just riff-raff. Having the name is all it takes to scare them. Who are you?"

"Mikhail."

"Mikhail what?"

"Mikhail." He'd repeated, lips curving into a smirk. He had no intention of giving him his last name.

"So, Mikhail," Huang's grin told him that he wasn't taken in by his dodging the question one bit, "what are you doing in Macau?"

"Looking for fun." He'd told him.

Huang grinned. "Well, the street vendors must be getting boring. Let's go somewhere really fun."

A few years later, and he'd never have gone. He'd have known better than to follow some random member of an opposing organization somewhere "fun". A few years later and he'd have known where things were going. Known better than to take Huang back to the hotel that was his father, and Yuri's, base of operations. A few years later, he'd always told himself, and things would have been very different...

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><p>He'd been high on opium when they'd stumbled into his hotel room that night. The opium dens Huang had taken him to had indeed been alot more fun than the street vendors. "Why'd you pull us out of there? I bet she'd have been a fun time." He'd dropped onto his bed, grinning. "Bet she'd have done anything for the right amount of money."<p>

"She's not that good." Huang had told him.

"Oh, you've had her before?" He'd grinned up at the other teenager. He couldn't seem to stop grinning. He felt really good.

"I'll take you someplace tomorrow where they're really worth the money." Huang had promised. "If you like that sort of thing."

"What's not to like about pleasure?" He'd asked, leaning back on his elbows to smile at the ceiling. The bed sunk a little as Huang got onto it. It took him a moment to realize he could feel the heat of one of Huang's legs between his own. He began to sit up, but Huang leaned down, capturing his mouth, his hands sliding up his chest. If he hadn't been quite so drugged out he might have protested, but Huang's lips felt soft and pleasant. His hands were warm, and seemed to know where to touch him.

Huang licked his lips as he pulled back. "You like pleasure?"

His breath was already hard, a combination of the drugs and the feelings of desire Huang's touch was causing. "Who doesn't?" He'd responded, watching him. Huang's hand had cupped his groin and he'd thrown his head back, a cry escaping his lips. Huang's lips had descended on his neck, sucking and nipping as his hand massaged him through his pants, arousing him further. His other hand worked on the buttons of his shirt, allowing his lips to trail downward over soft skin and hard muscle. "More." His hips were bucking into Huang's hand. He'd been young. His body needy.

"Much more...I can make you feel things that whore couldn't even begin to." Huang had promised. He'd sat back, ceasing his actions.

Mikhail had let out a whine of disappointment, sitting up. "Don't make a promise like that and stop." He'd lectured, reaching to grab a handful of Huang's shirt and yank him down on top of him.

Their groins had met, arousals rubbing into eachother through their clothing. Huang had shuddered above him - moaning. Mikhail was louder, letting out a shout. The half-chinese teenager had pushed up slightly to look at his face, though his hips were undulating against the body now under him as he reached down to untangle his hand from his shirt. He had brought it to his mouth to nibble at the palm; to flick his tongue against it. The gesture seemed sweet somehow, but arousing at the same time. Mikhail had met the motions of his hips with his own, wanting more of the feelings he was creating.

The door had slammed open, and Huang had pushed half-off of him. He wanted to protest, but was brought up short by the sight of Yuri. He stood frozen partway into the room, eyes widened at the sight before him.

He'd groaned in frustration at the interruption. "Uncle."

But Yuri's reaction wasn't so simple. His eyes grew wider, and Mikhail swore he could see the moment he slipped off the knife-edge he walked. See the insanity fill him. "Filthy whore!" He'd made a grab for Huang, who'd rolled off the bed - landing on his feet.

It was as good as ice water. His ardor cooled instantly. "Uncle!" He'd pushed himself up. "Stop!" His words were useless against the insanity gripping the older man.

"Despicable sinner!" He tried to hit him, but Huang was faster - jumping out of the way.

He only saw the whip when Yuri brought up his hand, ready to strike. He leaped between them, hands gripping Yuri's forearms. The action was instinctive. "Uncle, stop it!" He heard the window open and turned to see Huang escape over the balcony.

A few years later, and he'd have known better than to turn his back on a threat.

The backhand across the face completely took him offguard. Yuri had never dared to touch him, no matter how angry he made him. He lost his balance, catching himself on the baseboard of the bed. Shock and the opium in his system slowing his reactions.

"You...you sinner!"

Too shocked to even scream when the whip first sliced through his shirt into his back. Too shocked to move.

"You'd defile yourself in such a way!" The whip hit again. "You filthy, despicable, whoreson!"

The whip fell again, and the third time he'd screamed. But he couldn't move, could only cling to the baseboard as the pain ripped through him. Fire erupting on his shoulder as the lash strokes continued. Feet running, voices shouting - all background noise to the agony he was feeling. He didn't even remember when the whip stopped. When Yuri's shouting grew distant and disappeared.

Yuri's second-in-command, Eduard, was whispering at one point that the doctor was coming as he lay curled up on the floor. He remembered wondering briefly if Huang had heard him screaming. He remembered hoping he hadn't.

Yuri was recalled to Moscow. For a year Eduard had ruled Macau. Though a few times he'd gone back to the opium dens he'd taken him to, he never saw Huang again. When he turned eighteen, his father sent Yuri back to Macau. As a second, his second. For his eighteenth birthday, his father gave him Macau.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>Okay, so this is alot of set-up. I know. And it's short again. Next part will be longer. And we will actually get a hint of the plot. Yay! LOL<p> 


	3. Part 2

**Never Never Land Part 2  
>A Viewfinder Fanfic<strong>

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><p>Mikhail stared silently out his window at the hotel grounds below. A private doctor had been brought in to check on Huang. He was badly bruised up, and had suffered several broken ribs and a possible concussion. However, he showed no signs of slipping into a coma, and had suffered no damage to any of his internal organs. He was damn lucky. He hadn't awoken when the doctor checked his injuries, and despite orders to be alerted when he was awake, no news had come. Night was falling now and Mikhail was growing suspicious. If he wasn't in a coma, then he was most likely faking it. He did not like to be deceived.<p>

Memories of their brief afternoon together had plagued him most of the afternoon. Sombered by them, he'd taken his evening meal alone. Fitting for a nephew in "mourning", he'd realized belatedly and with a touch of sarcasm. Huang's appearance had actually driven Yuri's funeral from his mind, until he'd been reminded of the flowers and gifts still collecting in a downstairs room. Having already passed through several security checks, there was no risk that any contained anything dangerous. Nonetheless, he'd sent Sergei down to go through them. His third-in-command was also told to take anything he saw he fancied. A lower member of his staff was collecting the names of each delivered item, and would send thank-you cards the next day.

"Celebrating death. How cold the world is." Turning his back on the window, Mikhail headed for the door. It was time to pay a visit to his guest.

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><p>The man guarding the door only nodded, which Mikhail returned before entering. It was exactly as he'd last seen him hours before. Huang lay, seemingly unconscious, on the bed. He gave an exasperated sigh and walked over to place one foot on the base board. "Just how long do you intend to play me for the fool?" He asked in a bored tone<p>

The man on the bed didn't move, but the corner of his mouth turned up. "As long as you let me."

"Huang Haifeng, I don't like people who try to play me."

Huang's eyes opened slowly. "So...you remember my name, Mikhail Arbatov." He turned in the bed to face him, pausing when he did.

Mikhail watched in amusement as Huang seemed to study every inch of him. "See something you like?"

"Oh, quite a lot." Huang smirked, finally raising his eyes to meet his gaze. "You've grown even more attractive, Mikhail. I wouldn't have thought it possible."

He was certain he'd grown discontent with compliments long ago, having received too many shallow words to believe they had any meaning. The way Huang delivered his words, though, was so unlike the hollow flattery he was accustomed to. They were fused with honest admiration, and a dose of lust as well. He felt his pulse beat faster, though he kept his face impassive. "Flattery will hardly be enough to gain you my good will."

"That's alright. I have lots of other talents." Huang's smirk only grew deeper, and he pointedly trailed his eyes along Mikhail's body once more.

"Who were you running from?"

The half-chinese man in the bed sighed. "Ah, so it's down to business already? What a shame."

"The men, Huang, who were they?"

"I would guess they were two of the Daoyun's dogs. The Haifeng failed to make a delivery, nor have they returned the money they were payed to make it. A fight is brewing."

"What was the delivery?"

"Drugs, I believe. I don't know the details. I'm not in favor with the Haifeng at the moment."

"And yet you were attacked."

"I have the name, that's all it takes to be dragged into mess after mess. You of all people should know that."

"Meaning?" Mikhail looked at him coldly.

"There's no escaping the name, is there? From the day you're born, to the day you die, you're judged by it."

"I do things my own way." Mikhail set his foot down, coming alongside the bed. "People can judge me anyway they please."

"Still so mischevious. You haven't grown up at all, Mikhail."

"Oh, I think you'll find in some ways, I've become much more experienced." His eyelids lowered as he gave Huang an inviting look. "However, I suppose you aren't wrong." His eyes grew distant. "I was sent here to lose my innocence. Once I return to the homeland, I'll be expected to be a man. In the meantime, Macau is my playground. My Never Never Land. And I don't need to grow up."

"Never Never Land." Huang repeated slowly. "Strange, to me, Macau has always been the place I wanted most to leave behind. I would never have thought of it in such a pleasant light."

"They say the grass always looks greener on the other side."

"Oh? How is the grass on this side of the fence then, I wonder." Huang was smirking again.

Mikhail found himself returning the expression. "Since you're injured, why don't you stay a few days and judge for yourself?"

"Most generous. I think I'd enjoy that."

Mikhail chuckled before turning to head toward the door. He was brought up short by Huang's voice.

"Leaving so soon? I was hoping that meant you'd stay longer."

"You shouldn't presume anything with me, Huang. Good night." He didn't look back as he exited, making his way back to his own quarters. He didn't want Huang to see the pleased smile he could feel lighting his face.

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><p>There was business to attend to, always. Though he did make it a point to drop in on Huang at least once a day. Huang did not even bother to hide his desire for him. Mikhail found his honesty in that respect utterly refreshing. It was three days later, two more than he'd anticipated, when he was called on by the Daoyun.<p>

"Gentlemen, please have a seat." He greeted the two men who entered. Warily, they'd moved forward to sit across from him. "Sergei tells me you felt it was most urgent to see me. And yet I don't believe we've met."

"Our names are Bai, and Chen." The man guestured first to himself, then to his companion. "We've been sent by the Daoyun."

"So I've heard. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? We've had so little contact until now."

"We understand that Huang Haifeng has come into your care." Bai spoke slowly.

"Quite extraordinary that you've come by such information. Seeing as he hasn't been in a condition to leave his room yet."

"Please, don't misunderstand us, Arbatov. We don't wish to make trouble." Chen stated firmly.

"That's probably a good thing for you." Mikhail smirked as the two glanced at eachother - obviously uncomfortable.

"We would like to request that he be turned over to us."

"And what reason would I have to do such a thing?"

"Relations between us have never been bad."

"Relations between us have been rather non-existent. What can you offer me in return?" When the two exchanged another glance, Mikhail smirked. "I owe the Daoyun no favors. If you have nothing to offer me, I have no reason to comply with your wishes."

"Mikhail Arbatov, I'm not sure you understand the situation." Chen frowned.

"I'm almost certain I do. But do enlighten me. What is the situation?"

"This is a personal matter between the Daoyun and the Haifeng. There's no reason for your organization to be involved."

"You're right, of course, there is no reason for me to involve myself."

"I'm pleased to hear you say that."

"That's why I do not intend to hand him over."

Bai scowled. "This has nothing to do with you Arbatov! If you say you aren't involved, then why harbor him in your house!"

Mikhail's gaze was impassive as he leaned back in his chair. "You say that since I am not involved, I should hand him over to you to remain so. But, I wonder if the Haifeng would see it in that light." The two men stiffened. "I believe this conversation is over."

"It's unwise to make enemies." Bai glowered as they stood.

"Indeed is is. You should keep that in mind."

With stiff bows, the two exited.

Mikhail sat back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face, which was interrupted by a knock. "Enter."

Sergei entered slowly, eyes still on the men no doubt still on their way out of the hotel, before turning forward and closing the door. "Sir, two members of the Haifeng request an audience."

Mikhail blinked blankly for a moment, before recovering. "I take it you placed them out of the Daoyun's path."

"I took them to the bar to wait."

"Very well." He stood, heading for the door. "I supposed I should go see what they want."

"The Daoyun did not look pleased." Sergei mentioned.

"I imagine not. But since they themselves mentioned we didn't have anything to do with this conflict, why should we take sides?" He left the door open behind him.

Left alone, the older man only shook his head and sighed. "This sounds like trouble already."

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><p>The two men had drinks, but they didn't look touched. Mikhail only slid into the seat, raising a hand to signal for his own drink. "Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure? I do not believe we have met."<p>

One man stiffened, but his companion remained unphased. "I have heard you are a hard man to deal with, Mikhail Arbatov."

"That might be true. I suppose it depends on your expectations."

"I see."

"I didn't catch your name."

"I imagine you didn't. I am Po Haifeng."

He made no mention of his companions name, nor did Mikhail ask for one. The Daoyun had sent simple messengers. The Haifeng had sent one of their own. He was starting to feel as if he was missing something. "And what brings you to my hotel?" He asked as his drink was set before him. "Aside from the delightful selection of liquor."

Po smiled. "While I'm sure you're wine is second only to your hospitality, I did not come for either. I'm sure you understand how recent actions of yours has caused some in my family to feel a bit worried."

"Truly? That seems an ungrateful way to respond to my saving the life of one of their own."

"Oh, we are most grateful for your kindness. Still, we can't help but worry, seeing as Huang has yet to return."

"You fear, perhaps, that I intend to hand him over to the Daoyun?"

"It was a concern of mine." Po mentioned, pulling his phone out of his pocket, he glanced at the screen. Whatever he saw their made him turn a thoughtful look on Mikhail. "But seeing as the Daoyun's representatives just drove off empty handed, I suppose that fear can be laid to rest?"

"Perhaps, but then again, perhaps not." Mikhail twirled the liquor in his glass. "Is there something in all of this for me, I wonder?"

"Our gratitude." Po suggested.

"You have already mentioned that. Nothing more substantial?"

"Is Huang your prisoner?"

"I assure you he is not."

"Then I may see him?"

"He's resting at this time. He was badly injured."

"Perhaps he would rest better amongst his own."

"Perhaps he is the best judge of that."

"Are you saying he wishes to stay here?"

"I'm saying I have not stopped him from leaving. His wishes are for him to say."

Po turned his gaze forward, thoughtful. "You understand my...concern in leaving him with you."

Mikhail's smile was mischievous. "Oh, I assure you, Huang is as safe with me as he wishes to be."

Po took a single sip from his glass, before standing. "Thank-you for your hospitality. We'll take our leave."

"Wouldn't you like to stay a bit longer? You should try our pool, it's most delightful!" Mikhail smirked when Po paused at the doorway to the bar.

The man turned a half-smile on him. "Perhaps another time, Mikhail Arbatov." With that, he exited. His silent companion following close behind.

Mikhail turned back to his drink, but his smile was gone. "Not in favor with the Haifeng at the moment, hm?" He repeated what Huang had said at their first meeting. For someone out of favor, everyone seemed most interested in him. Mikhail definitely had a feeling Huang was holding back info. "Well then, I'll just have to pay him a visit." His smile returned, and he drained his glass.

_To Be Continued..._

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><p>This may seem like more set-up, but trust me, the plot is in motion. LOL Next chapter, Mikhail pays Huang a business visit. Think Huang's interested in business right now? Probably about as much as Mikhail is. ;)<p>

I was asked why I didn't like Mikhail paired with Fei... I'm not certain, really. I like both characters, so I did give the pairing a try. It wasn't even a matter of not finding a good fic for them - I thought several of the fics for them were well-written. I just couldn't get into them as a pairing. I think it's because I feel, at the core, they're **too **alike, and I'm rarely drawn to that in a Ship.

More to come! Please review. :)


	4. Part 3

**Never Never Land Part 3  
>A Viewfinder Fanfic<strong>

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><p>Huang was in the room he was recuperating in. Despite the bandage wrapped around his chest, he was doing push ups. Mikhail would have rolled his eyes at the sheer stupidity of exercising before fully recovering, if it hadn't presented such an enticing picture. Muscles flexing, perspiration make a light sheen on his skin. He looked away, taking a deep breath to cool the heat beginning to coil in his lower body. He was here to talk business. Pleasure would have to wait. He cleared his throat.<p>

"I'm almost done." Huang assured him smoothly, not even sounding worn out.

Mikhail crossed his arms, looking back at Huang. "You do realize most would drop what they're doing when I come calling. I'm a dangerous man when displeased, Huang."

Huang did two more push ups before standing and picking up a towel from the nightstand to pat himself dry with. "Does the sight before you...displease you?" He looked over at him with a smirk.

Mikhail felt a smirk curl his own lips. "Certainly not."

"Then why make me stop? One should always partake of pleasures while they can." He propped one arm against the bedpost - eyes smoldering with heat. The invitation was more than obvious.

'Business, Mikhail.' He lectured himself silently. "I was just visited by members of the Daoyun."

"Ah." Huang straightened. "So this is a business call? Let me guess, they wanted you to hand me over to their care."

"They said we hadn't had any negative dealings in the past, so they asked for me to comply with their request. A stretch, really, considering we hadn't had any dealings in the past. I told them they'd have to sweeten the deal to garner my interest."

"And did they?"

"They were lackeys. They didn't have the authority."

"I see. And what will you do if they come back with an offer?"

"That would depend on the offer, wouldn't it?" Mikhail replied, leaning back against the dresser.

"I see." Huang moved forward to stand beside him, leaning one hand on the dresser. "So...I should make a counter offer?"

"What could you possibly have to offer?" He glanced over, smirking again.

"You may be surprised at what I can offer." Huang's words were a heated whisper.

With an effort, Mikhail focused on what was in front of him. It was the bed, which didn't help his thoughts flow in the right direction at all. He kept talking, ignoring Huang's advances. "Their visit was followed by one by a member of your family. Due to our lack of dealings in the past, they expressed concern for you welfare in my care."

"What did you tell them?"

"That you were as safe in my care as you wished to be."

Huang leaned closer, his breath hot on his ear. "But what if I don't want to be safe in your care, Mikhail?" His lips curled around the curve of his ear, suckling.

Mikhail pulled away, placing a hand against Huang's shoulder and pushing him back a step. "Pleasure is fleeting. Power lasts a lifetime." His father's mantra. Words he'd grown up hearing. Drummed into his ear time and gain.

"You already have power, why deny yourself pleasure?"

The counter words made him freeze. They were practically his own thoughts spoken to him. The objection he'd never dared voice aloud. Seeing his hesitation, Huang took ahold of the hand on his shoulder and brought his palm to his mouth. He grazed it with his teeth, then followed the path with lips and tongue.

A repeated action from a long ago memory. Their interrupted night of passion from their youth. If pleasure was fleeting, why was Huang's touch burned into his memory? Why did he still have this effect on him?

"Shall I take your silence for agreement?" Huang murmured into his skin, lips moving up to his wrist. "For consent?" He nuzzled against his pulse.

"You think me so easily seduced?" Mikhail went to pull his hand back, but Huang held to it tightly.

"It is you who have seduced me." He countered. "A look sets me on fire...a touch burns me to the core." He placed the captured hand on his chest, over his heart, which was pounding hard against his ribcage already. "Do you feel my excitement?"

"Excitement, is it?" Mikhail's tone was mocking. Slowly he dragged his hand downward, letting his fingers dance over Huang's bare skin. The other man met his gaze - naked lust in his eyes.

"You want me, Mikhail. I know you do."

"I know you want me. Have you spent even a moment of your time here on a thought that didn't involve getting me into your bed?"

"Oh, a great deal more time on what I'd do to you in my bed than how to get you there."

Mikhail yanked his hand back with a frown. "So confident you could get me there, were you?"

"Yes."

"Don't underestimate me, Huang."

"Tell me to leave then."

Mikhail's eyes narrowed, but the other had called his bluff. "Why do the Daoyun want you?"

Huang growled in frustration. "Because any dead Haifeng makes it a war. Are you satisfied?"

"Not truly."

"Mikhail. I am going to close that door and lock it. Then I am going to drag you onto that bed and fuck you until you come screaming my name. Do you truly intend to object?"

"Huang, stop making promises..." Reaching out a hand, Mikhail grasped the back of his neck and dragged him into a kiss. Their tongues tangled as Huang pressed him against the dresser, rubbing their bodies against each other. "...unless you intend to keep them."

Huang broke them apart with one final brush of his lips against his. "I fully intend to keep every one of my promises to you, Mikhail."

Words. They were just words. He had a life littered with broken oaths and empty words. They meant nothing. He couldn't afford to believe otherwise. He waited by the dresser, watching as Huang closed and locked the door before returning to stand in front of him.

"If you don't want this, tell me to stop now."

Mikhail exhaled in frustration. "If I didn't want this, do you think you'd still have a room at my hotel? After. Three. Days. In all honesty, you've been remarkably slow on the uptake."

Huang smirked at that. "In my defense, I was badly injured."

"As a rule, I don't accept excuses, but I suppose I'll let it slide...if you make it worth my while."

Huang chuckled, then dragged him into another kiss. He took control of it this time, tongue seizing control of his mouth - exploring every crevice. He teased the invading muscle with his own, sliding against it briefly only to dodge away when he sought more touch. A slight growl and their teeth clacked as Huang forcefully rubbed their tongues together. Lost in the kiss, he hadn't even realized he'd been guiding him to the bed until his back hit the sheets.

Mikhail didn't object to Huang taking control. It had been a few years since his last male lover. He didn't really care about gender himself. Pleasure was pleasure to him. But it had just been too much of a bother with Yuri around.

Of the two male lovers he'd kept long enough to bring to the hotel, one had ended up hospitalized and the other dead. He'd punished Yuri both times, but it had been easier to just stick to women anywhere his uncle was. As he had been his second, he was rarely someplace he wasn't, so even flings with male lovers had grown more and more rare as the years passed.

He'd never considered the idea that he'd been letting Yuri's presence control that aspect of his life. Surely, that wasn't the case. Nobody controlled him. And yet...

Here he was, so suddenly taking a male lover again now that Yuri was gone. And not just any male, but the very one who might have been his first had Yuri not interrupted. Sometimes he wondered if he should dare believe in fate.

"You're a million miles away, Mikhail." Huang's murmur drew him out of his memories.

"Mn...do you believe in fate?"

"Fate?" Huang's tone was curious as he leaned down to unbutton his shirt with his teeth.

"For us to meet again. Now. Not sooner; not later. Now. Could that truly be coincidence?"

Huang's lips worked their way back up the planes of his stomach and chest, bared now by the unbuttoned shirt. "Meeting you now..." His voice was thoughtful. "Meeting you now must be fate." He capturing his lips in another kiss, then lowered his body to press into his. He couldn't suppress a moan at the sensation. It was too sinuous to call it rutting. Huang undulated his body against his, stroking in a way he'd always associated with hands, not bodies.

When Huang sat up, he grabbed his arm, and pulled - twisting his body so he could straddle him. He looked up with him with more excitement than concern. He kissed him, dragging his nails down his chest and stomach. They were short, but groomed and he dug them in slightly - leaving marks in his wake. Huang moaned into the kiss, hands reaching up to entangle in his hair. Breaking the kiss he trailed his lips up his jaw to his ear, nibbling and suckling at it, before turning the same attention to his neck and collarbone.

"First claws, now teeth. If you intend to eat me, I can think of where I'd want you to start." Huang's voice was low with desire.

"I thought you promised to fuck me. Didn't you say you'd keep your promises to me?"

"I did." He released his grip on his hair. "I want to know all your secrets. I want to be a part of your world."

"Empty words." Mikhail growled back. "After you keep a few of these pretty promises, then speak of secrets and worlds."

"Then let's start with this one...you will come screaming my name..."

* * *

><p>"I've decided you're a lion." Was Huang's greeting when he opened his eyes.<p>

He hadn't meant to sleep at all. Merely rest his eyes after one of the most intense sexual experiences of his life. Which once again was saying something. It was clear by the light in the room, however, that he'd slept several hours. Hopefully nothing serious had happened while he napped. Not that he didn't think Sergei could handle it if it did.

"A lion?" He repeated, stretching as he waited for the explanation.

"Teeth. Claws. Even a mane." Huang ran a hand through the wild locks of his hair.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "I see."

"...Was it him? Was it that night?"

For a moment Mikhail was confused, then he sat up with a frown. "Do they bother you?"

"Only if I caused them."

"It was inevitable. Yuri was always a step from madness."

"So it was him. But was it me?"

Mikhail bent one leg, leaning on it to study Huang intently. "Was a whore of the Haifeng supposed to be giving out freebies to the son of a Russian mobster?"

Huang chuckled. "I was freed from that particular position at the time. It was my first week of freedom, in fact. I was excited by the prospect of choosing my own lover for the first time."

Mikhail stared. "Was it me?" Huang offered an amused smile, and he couldn't help but laugh. "We were quite the pair that night, weren't we? Which den was yours?"

"The final one. That's why I knew the girl you wanted to hire wouldn't have been good. She was in training. Miss Feng - the owner - has always said she's more loyal to me than any other Haifeng. Because I was one of hers first."

"If you were born to the family, how did you-"

"Half-breed." Huang interjected. "I told you that night. Mother was only a daughter and she had an affair."

"So she was sent to the whorehouse?" Mikhail scowled.

"Not for the affair. For keeping me. I was born, raised, and watched her die there. She always said he'd come back. Maybe he lied; maybe he died. I've never known. I'd like to think the latter but experience tells me the former." Huang studied him for a moment. "Was it me?"

Mikhail sighed. "Yes. But only because you were - would have been - first. He was punished for it. And I was given Macau."

"Punished...but alive?"

"My second."

Huang stared at him as if he doubted his sanity. "Your second?"

He chuckled. "He was good at his job as long as he remembered his place. He's dead now though. The funeral was last week."

"You'll understand if I don't offer my condolences."

"I'd find it refreshing. My turn. How did you come to be freed from your position? Too old?"

"I was getting there. But, no. A cousin - Caolin - she spoke up for me. She called it saving me. I call that questionable. I wasn't the family until she made it so. I was nameless. A nameless whore doesn't tend to get shot at. Or chased after because of deals gone wrong." There was a bitterness to the words.

"If you're concerned about how you'll die, I assure you - you're in the wrong company."

"For you, it might be worth the risk."

"But not for your family?"

"They didn't remember I was family until I was useful for them. There are those who find my attitude...ungrateful."

"And yet they sent someone here to check on you." He couldn't help but feel slightly suspicious again. It was simply part of his world. It was part of what kept him alive in it.

"Probably Caolin's doing. She's made it her personal mission to reconcile me to the family. Possibly so she has one more person more loyal to her than to Yi." Huang sounded thoughtful.

"And Yi is?"

"The head of the family. Another of my cousins."

"You're telling me there's infighting?"

"I'm telling you I have as little to do with my family as possible."

"So...there's infighting and a shipment never made it. And now there may be a war with the Daoyun. Very convenient for someone in the Haifeng. The question is who..." Mikhail contemplated the information. "This could definitely be fun."

"You still have a crazy idea of fun." Huang told him. Mikhail laughed.

* * *

><p>"A good evening, gentlemen. I was informed you wished to see me again." Mikhail offered one of his brightest smiles to the men seated at his office desk. It had been a week since Huang and he had become lovers. Huang had yet to leave the hotel to return to the Haifeng, but Mikhail wasn't complaining. He was becoming addicted to having Huang there at the end of the day when his own business was through. It was dangerous to get attached, and he knew it. He blamed his boredom, and didn't look too deeply at other possible motives.<p>

The two Daoyun who had first approached him made no attempt to maintain such a civil facade. "Arbatov, you said you took no sides in our disagreement with the Haifeng." Chen spoke up first.

"And that remains true." He nodded as if the other hadn't spoken accusingly, but had merely asked a question. And it was true. He wasn't involving himself with the Haifeng. Huang was another matter, but as for his family, they had made no further attempts to contact him, and he had done the same.

"Then why is Huang Haifeng still here? You're harboring our enemies, yet claim to take no side?" Bai slammed a hand on his desk angrily.

Mikhail made a point to eye the hand on the desk until it was removed."Gentlemen, my hotel is open to whoever pays to stay. If you were to pay for a room, you two would be welcome to spend a night or ten here. Yet that would certainly not mean I was taking your side. Merely that I am, as ever, a generous and forgiving host."

"You must think us fools."

"Only if you persist in your accusations." His tone held a warning.

"Arbatov, we both know Huang couldn't possibly be paying for his board here. Whatever he has promised in return for sanctuary with you, I can assure you he has no power to maintain. He is no one." Chen broke in.

"Gentlemen, I dislike to repeat myself, so I will only say this one more time. I take no sides in your dispute with the Haifeng. I have had no dealings with either of your families and neither of you have offered me any incentives to favor you. Therefore, I have no reason to object to Huang's continued presence in my hotel. Keep your fight off my grounds, and I will give you the same courtesy. But if you persist on dragging it here, and you'll find I am not a man to be trifled with."

Chen studied him before speaking. "Nothing to do with the Haifeng, you say. What of Huang himself?"

Mikhail's eyes narrowed. "I believe this conversation is over."

Bai scowled, but Chen contained him with a gesture. "You're harboring a snake, Arbatov. And you will come to regret it."

In the silence of his office after the two had departed, Mikhail sat contemplating his words. He had only Huang's words to go on. Words that could easily be lies. Wasn't it far more likely they were than weren't? Especially with the Daoyun's continued interest in him. If their only interest was to start a war by killing any Haifeng, wouldn't they move on? Why risk angering a third party for a supposedly out of favor member of the family?

"I'm starting to get inappropriate ideas of you being attached to me."

Mikhail opened his eyes to glare at Huang, who hadn't even bothered to knock. "That might be changing."

"Ah..." Huang closed the door, apparently not caring that he was currently treading on dangerous ground with him. "Did the Daoyun make an offer you couldn't refuse? Or did they make a suggestion that you find disturbing but likely?"

He felt his hands curl around the chair arms, but he met Huang's gaze calmly. "Is there a reason they should? Something you aren't telling me?"

"Perhaps." Huang paced forward, coming around behind him. Before he could turn, Huang's hands were massaging his shoulders. "I run deliveries. I've delivered to them before. I wasn't, however, in charge of the shipment that went missing."

"But you know who was." He didn't relax into the touch, even though a part of him wanted to. The confession made sense. That was just the problem. Huang's side of the story did make sense. That didn't mean it was the truth, but it was hard not to be influenced by the logic of it.

"Perhaps."

"Don't play games with me, Huang." He shrugged off his hands, and stood. Huang moved swiftly, blocking one of his paths out from behind his desk.

"But I like to play with you, Mikhail."

"You may be under the illusion because of my generosity to you that I am not dangerous. I assure you, if that's so, you're wrong." He threatened, hand moving closer to his side, placing the gun hidden under his suit jacket within easy reach.

"Oh, no, my Lion, I know you're dangerous. It's one of the things I like most about you."

"Do you know who was making the delivery to the Daoyun?"

"...always business."

"You're on dangerous ground, Huang."

Huang seemed to contemplate how serious he was about the words, then nodded. "I do. I played cards with him a few days before. Last I heard, nobody heard from him after he left to make the delivery. But I've been cut off from contacts since, and I can't say what's happened with the Haifeng since my escape from the Daoyun."

"Escape?" Mikhail scoffed. "You mean when I saved your ass?"

Huang's eyes danced as they gazed into his. "If you prefer...am I forgiven for not telling you everything now?"

Mikhail crossed his arms, studying him. "I don't see why I should."

"I couldn't simply tell you everything, Mikhail. I couldn't know yet if I could trust you."

"A wise move, in truth. I could betray you still."

"Well, then, I'll just have to work on keeping you too pleased with me to betray me." Huang's tone dripped with innuendo.

"Really? You think you can?" He couldn't help the smile that curved his lips.

"I certainly don't see where the harm could be in trying." Huang leaned closer, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Mikhail stepped back to retake his seat, and Huang stepped away from the desk. He wondered briefly at how smoothly they'd both acted. As if it was something they'd done before, or perhaps something they were meant to. Determined to keep his thoughts by how easily he seemed to be falling into a routine with Huang, he leaned on his desk, steepling his fingers. "Enter."

Sergei entered, noting Huang but seeming neither surprised or disturbed by his presence. "Forgive the interruption, but we have a visitor."

"Really, who now? The Haifeng this time?"

"No, sir. In fact-"

"Your men seem a bit above themselves. Telling family to wait to be announced." A new voice interrupted Sergei's report.

Mikhail's eyes narrowed at the man who stepped into the room. "Maksim."

"It's a long flight from the homeland, cousin. Aren't you going to give me a warmer greeting than that?"

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

><p>And the plot thickens again. Geez, this fic really is rife with OCs, isn't it? And it's actually only going to get worse. Sigh.<p>

There are pieces of Huang and Mikhail's first scene altered and missing because I refrain from posting MA material on FFnet. Please check my profile for a link to my writing journal, where you can read the unedited versions of edited fics.

Next chapter we get less talk and a little more action...maybe...


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